


coming after me

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, SM Entertainment | SMTown, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4947430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This is not her fault. We'll call it: post alcohol-induced regret, complete with tiny umbrellas.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	coming after me

**Author's Note:**

> More neighbor prompts! Because they're really awesome. This one was 'taengsic + drunk at 3' or something of that nature. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

This is not her fault.

We'll call it: post alcohol-induced regret, complete with tiny umbrellas. (It makes sense in her head.) If she could paraphrase the night, it would simply be filled with short, uncomfortable dresses; Sooyoung seriously pulling her aside and saying, "Dude. Let's get you laid!" and then, of course, abandoning her for her soccer player boyfriend because Minho is _never_ in town; all ended by the reminder that Taeyeon has never once been able to handle her alcohol so _who_ decided to give her three, very strong, very fruity drinks?

"I am going to kill you," she says into her phone, stepping out of the elevator. She knows that Sooyoung went home early, hopefully to Minho's apartment and to bother Minho's roommates. She really needs her bed right now. "What happened to Taeyeon-ah! I promise I won't leave you, Taeyeon-ah --"

She stumbles into her front door, her hand peeling off a post-it that covers the peep hole. Taeyeon closes her eyes. The floor is swaying and she can still taste the strawberry somewhere in the back of her throat. It's sticky. It's also gross.

She is going to vomit.

"Dear Tae!" she reads instead, trying to focus. The words blend together. "Tae-yeon," she mutters. "My name -- I love you," she continues in one breath, "and I took your keys at the bar because hopefully you went home with that cute guy... no ajumma pajama pants for you!"

Her reaction happens in stages. 

First, she sighs. Taeyeon has always been a perfectly rational person; she takes care of her friends best this way and applies to her career too. The songwriting is where she keeps the romance, of course. Which leads her to the second stage; her eyes begin to burn and she starts to sniff, oh god, she needs her bed and crying isn't going to help the millions of thoughts singing in her head about how she is never, _ever_ going to get drunk with Sooyoung again.

The third, she just dumps her purse over, letting everything spill to the ground.

"Oh _god_ ," she breathes, smacking the post-it back into the door. " _Sooyoung_!" she starts to knock. Her knees are starting to buckle and her eyes squint because the light in the hallway are starting to make the sequins of her dress even more obnoxious.

A hand drops onto her shoulder.

Taeyeon whirls around, wide-eyed and red with embarrassment. Her mouth opens. Then it closes.

Her neighbor is staring at her, amused.

"Are you all right?" she asks, gently.

This is the part where Taeyeon starts to cry.

 

 

 

When they moved in, Sooyoung said to her: "I think we live next door to a doctor!" and of course, all Taeyeon could think to say was something smart like, "well, good -- just in case I almost kill you..." because she's terrible at cooking but at the very least, she can claim to use a microwave.

Months in, she discovers that her neighbor is a woman, has a sister and hates cats, and she's never once seen beyond the shape of her body, the occasional blue scrubs, and the way her hair sort of coils against her back. It's all really pretty, of course, and Taeyeon is too ridiculously shy to even introduce herself.

Now, she's staring right at her.

"I'm _drunk_ ," she blurts, watching in awe as the other woman kneels down to pick up the contents of her purse on the floor.

"I see that," she replies, amused. She looks up, her bangs spilling over her eyes. "Where are your keys?" she asks.

Taeyeon rubs at her eyes, her fists pushing at her tears. She shakes her head.

"Sooyoung-ah took them," she blubbers. "Because she thinks I'm going to get old and die alone and write love songs, sad love songs for the rest of my life because that's what I'm really, really good at. Sad love songs and taking care of my friends."

The Really Pretty Doctor stands up. She's tinier than Taeyeon can remember. She tucks her hair behind her ear and is holding onto her purse.

"So you can't get in," she muses and Taeyeon feels really guilty, her lips wavering. She must be tired. The Really Pretty Doctor continues: "Did she lock you out?"

"Yes," she hiccup-sighs. Taeyeon's feet shuffle as she leans into the wall. She's getting sleepy. "She's with her boyfriend in town because they're like that or whatever. I just want my bed, you know?"

The Really Pretty Doctor laughs. The sound is warm and oh god, Taeyeon can't help but watch her. Her mouth looks soft, she thinks.

"I understand." The Really Pretty Doctor takes her bag and then curls a hand around Taeyeon's wrist, tugging her to lean into her. "Come on," she says. "You can stay with me. We'll break into your apartment in the morning."

Taeyeon doesn't know what else to say because she's talked enough, for the year even, and can barely focus because she's leaning into The Really Pretty Doctor and she smells insanely nice, something floral, something spicy, something that completely invades her mind and settles.

She can regret this later.

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyeon wakes up once, around five am, and has no idea where she is but she's in bed, it's warm, and the sweatshirt she's wearing says _Columbia_ , which is weird but she's going with it. 

She stumbles to the bathroom, or at least where she thinks it is, gets confused, and then stumbles backwards, back to the bedroom, to find the bathroom near an insanely large closet. She doesn't know. It's dark and the light from her phone is kind of worthless anyway.

She still sits over the toilet, as her stomach growls angrily at her and the alcohol pulls at her throat. She tries to focus on her shorts, caught at her ankles and ready to trip her, and ends up refocusing and making a list in the Notes section on her phone.

I HATE SOOYOUNG, it reads. She wrinkles her nose and sighs. Reaching to the side, she drags the trashcan in front of her. Maybe. Just in case.

The rest of the list is something like this:

The Really Pretty Doctor smells Really Pretty too.

Her bathroom is ('iz', let's be honest -- she's going to have serious regret in the morning) is between the closet and the door to the hallway. That's deceiving. And it's dark right now.

She needs to buy this girl flowers.

 

 

 

 

 

The morning after is like this: sunlight sneaking into the room, the curtains are lace, warm cheeks, noise in the kitchen and god, is that bacon?; _Columbia_ is still stretched over her chest, her phone is plugged into the nightstand, and it's ten minutes to eleven and she apparently is sane enough to sit up to test the control of her limbs.

 _Oh god_ , she thinks. 

Taeyeon's legs slide onto the floor and it's cold against her heels. She is just wearing the sweatshirt and her underwear. She doesn't know how. Her face flames as she imagines the million, embarrassing scenarios that might have happened. She forces herself to breathe though, following the smell of bacon and coffee into the hallway and to the living room.

The Really Pretty Doctor is in the kitchen.

The sun is everywhere too. Taeyeon squints and shades her eyes, looking around and trying to not think about being embarrassed. But the more she sees the other woman's apartment -- the white walls, the clean lines, and all the windows ever -- she is caught between envy and regret too.

"You're awake."

Taeyeon blinks. Her face flushes and she shoves her hands into the pocket of the sweatshirt.

"Yeah," she breathes. Her throat crumbles and tightens. "You --" she doesn't know what to say without sounding stupid, "you took care of me?"

The woman laughs and shrugs. She finishes in the kitchen, carrying two plates to a pair of french doors. She turns, meeting Taeyeon's gaze.

"Grab the coffee," she says instead. She nods to the kitchen. "We'll eat outside and then figure out how to break into your place. Or call your roommate."

Taeyeon can only obey, following The Really Pretty Doctor out into the balcony space. There is a small table with flowers in the center and she watches, almost helplessly, as the other woman arranges everything. She hands the coffees over too and then sits down, shyly, taking in this new area of the apartment.

There are a lot of flowers and a small herb garden, some tea lights hanging over their head and it takes her a moment to realize that The Really Pretty Doctor has pulled her hair up and she can now see the long, slender expanse of her throat and how stupidly attracted she is to this woman and bewildered that she's just wearing a white t-shirt and jean shorts.

"I'm so sorry," she says finally, head bowed. She sort of blurts it out too, then her fingers grope for a piece of bacon. She takes a quick bite. "I just kind of --"

"It's fine." The Really Pretty Doctor smiles and shrugs. "Sooyeon," she says easily.

Taeyeon's eyes widen and she blushes. "Sooyeon," she repeats. She squints in the sun when she finally looks up, studying the other woman's face. Sooyeon's mouth curls again and her head tilts as she stares back, as if she were waiting for something. "Sooyeon," Taeyeon repeats again.

"Jung," Sooyeon finishes. "Dr. Sooyeon Jung."

There are a lot of excuses that Taeyeon could make; namely the drunk excuse and the hangover excuse because both of them are still applicable until she finishes her bacon and at least her coffee _halfway_. But the name is familiar, stupidly familiar, and she drags her coffee to her lips, rolling it around in her head, trying to make some sense of why it does.

Then suddenly a mental picture hits. Two girls, that school uniform that she used to hate with a passion, black checkered and a little bit of red, and holding hands, wide eyed with _why do you have to move away_. It's a bizarre film reel and then, she starts to realize, that she's an even bigger idiot than before.

"Sooyeon-ah," she breathes. Her fingers twitch and Sooyeon laughs warmly. "Oh my god," Taeyeon says, face still red. "You're -- when did you get back?"

"Two years ago," she replies dryly and Taeyeon puts the timeline together. She moved in two years ago and didn't even notice. "I bought my parents a house and decided to stay."

Taeyeon groans, dropping her head. "I've lived next to you for _two_ years?"

"In your defense," Sooyeon explains, "I've been really busy and there has been a lot going on. I felt really awkward..."

Which kills Taeyeon because they were best friends for most of middle school. She can't remember why Sooyeon went, but she does remember snippets: holding hands, walking home, and all those stupid secrets they used to share. It was more than that, more than just sleepovers and sharing the same bed, talking about first kisses and tangling fingers in each other's hair -- _I'll be your first kiss_ , Taeyeon had declared and that was that; she does not remember how soft Sooyeon's mouth was or how it was summer and hot, how Sooyeon wanted to watch the fireflies way into the morning and all Taeyeon wanted to do was sleep.

"You look good," Taeyeon says. She clears her throat and then swallows, reaching forward and wrapping her hand around Sooyeon's. Her fingers are warm from the coffee. "You should have said something," she mumbles, shaking her head. "I'm terrible at faces."

Sooyeon laughs. "Well now you know," she says.

This is growing up, of course.

 

 

 

 

 

Eventually Taeyeon gets back into her apartment.

She feels stupidly guilty, of course, and promises to take Sooyeon to dinner to catch up, somewhere between albums and shifts and other things. Sooyoung comes home too and they sort of make up because she's out of her Minho-induced haze and returns her keys _and_ offers to buy dinner for the next couple of nights.

"So it's a date," Sooyoung says, after Taeyeon admits to all the weird coincidences. Her roommate is nothing short of amused and leans against the piano that lives in their sitting area as Taeyeon makes a few edits. "At least, that's what you're telling me."

"Shut up," Taeyeon mutters. Her heart lumps into her throat and the knots in her belly starts to form. "I haven't seen her in years and I can't make that assumption."

Sooyoung rolls her eyes, picking up one of the songs she's working on. "Of course," she says. "Kim Taeyeon," she teases, "I've seen you woo the ladies _and_ the dudes. You bat your pretty eyes and say something about a love song and _boom_ , pants off and you're back to being over-invested in your music."

Taeyeon throws a pen at Sooyoung's head.

"I hate you."

Her friend shrugs. "Tell you what," she says too. "I'll vacate the premises, order from that restaurant you love, and go to Minho's so that you can get laid _and_ catch up. Everybody wins."

Taeyeon's face is so red that she feels nearly obligated to go crawl back to her bedroom to hide in embarrassment. 

Sooyoung just laughs.

It's nothing new.

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm really sorry," Taeyeon apologizes, for the sixth time, in the middle of the supermarket because, of course, the expensive takeout doesn't show up and she is not going to not feed Sooyeon when she was the one that extended the invitation earlier in the day.

"It's fine," Sooyeon laughs. She nudges her as they push the grocery cart down the produce section. "I like cooking."

Taeyeon sighs. "But you've already done so much --" she blushes, shaking her head. "I haven't progressed past a microwave."

Sooyeon selects a bag of spinach.

"Not to worry," she laughs again. "It's relaxing for me anyway."

Taeyeon can only nod, still feeling guilty. Sooyeon had met her downstairs, still dressed in her scrubs. She was wearing glasses and looked impossibly tired, so much so that Taeyeon just wanted to grab her by the hand and take care of her, which is not unusual but even more terrifying because it's Sooyeon.

It's like everything is coming back in pieces. Fast and abrupt. Sometimes over coffee. Into her music and her notes. She'll think to herself _remember when_ and in her head, she'll meet Sooyeon again and herself when they were younger and that time her older brother left for the military. Or that time Sooyeon had to threaten a group of girls for picking on her little sister because Soojung was always the smartest and the shyest and _it's just not right, Taeyeon-ah_. It's like everything she's ever loved has come back to her, rolled into this person that is half-familiar, more new, and something that she finds herself wanting to keep tightly to herself.

"Long day?" she asks finally.

Sooyeon nods. "I'm in emergency medicine," she explains. "You see a lot of everything." She's vague, but looks up and meets Taeyeon's gaze. "Children are the worst," she adds. "And some parents shouldn't be parents ..." She shakes her head and then touches Taeyeon's hand. "I'm fine," she says gently.

Taeyeon's face clears. She's amused, shaking her head too.

"Am I that obvious?"

Sooyeon laughs and the sound lends some relief to her. "Yes," she says. "But I appreciate it nonetheless."

They don't talk about it again. Instead, Taeyeon learns the scarier parts of the supermarket like the butcher's area and the little old ladies that, of course, want to shove samples down your throat until you buy the pasta that they have. She also learns that Sooyeon still hates cucumbers, wants to get a dog but worries about taking care of it, is considering a teaching position in medical school on top of everything else, and her mother hated her last girlfriend so much it was almost like a drama.

Taeyeon pays for the food though and they walk out, still talking, now about Taeyeon's turn in the music industry.

The screeching tires come out of nowhere.

The screams are next and something in Taeyeon snaps, her eyes wide as Sooyeon pulls her close. They both whirl around to see a stopped car, a child in the middle of the parking lot with her mother and the driver leaning over her.

"Is there a doctor?" Someone cries out.

Something in her snaps and she's taking the bags from Sooyeon, who is already in mid-sprint too. Her strides are long and fast and Taeyeon follows, her phone already out as she dials for an ambulance. A crowd has gather and Sooyeon breaks through them, kneeling at the little girl's side.

It's like the city stops moving and the murmurs and gasps around Taeyeon, as she joins the group closer, sound out as she begins to process what she sees. It's Sooyeon with her hands, cooing softly to the little girl, smiling, murmuring, as she gently asses what she can immediately treat. There is something so intimidating and an intimate about what she sees, how Sooyeon basically transforms into a completely different person.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" A woman next to her whispers, hushed and trembling.

Sirens start to scream in the distance. Taeyeon is too focused on Sooyeon to look up; her eyes are bright and sharp.

There is blood on Sooyeon's hands and the neat, clean fingers slip underneath the girl's head too. Her hands remain steady as the mother launches herself against Sooyeon's side and the driver begins to shrink back. Sooyeon remains the same still; flanked, steadied, and entirely too brave.

"Yes," she hears herself say.

It's even more terrifying how much she believes it.

 

 

 

 

 

They sit side by side on the couch. Sooyeon's eyes are closed, her head is tilted back, and Taeyeon hasn't let go of her hand; she can't remember when she grabbed.

"Are you hungry?" she asks finally, quietly, because she can't think of anything else to say. There are groceries in the kitchen, half-unpacked. She had the presence of mind to put the meat into the refrigerator. They've both changed; she doesn't give Sooyeon the _Columbia_ sweatshirt back (she won't) but a t-shirt she has instead from when she sold her first song to JYP, years ago. Memories, she supposes.

"No," Sooyeon says. Her voice is husky. "I'm exhausted, actually."

When she turns her head, her eyes open too and Taeyeon is almost startled into staring back. Sooyeon's mouth twitches.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Taeyeon answers. "No," she says too. She shakes her head. "Do you do that everyday?" she finishes, awed.

"Sometimes," Sooyeon says. "Or it's a slow day and some idiot vomits all over me because he's had too much soju and lost money to his moronic friend."

Taeyeon laughs. She can't help herself either, reaching forward and pushing Sooyeon's hair out of her eyes.

"You can tell me to butt out," she says. "But ... why?"

Sooyeon smiles. It's absent and soft. She squeezes Taeyeon's hand and then turns, facing her fully.

"Why am I a doctor?" she asks and Taeyeon nods. She wanted to be a singer, she remembers too. "Too pragmatic for my own good, I guess," she answers, after awhile. Sooyeon laughs a little at herself. "I'm good at it," she says. "And I like being around people, helping people. Maybe be somebody's hero too." Then, shaking her head: "It's something I can do for a long time," Sooyeon adds.

"Well." Taeyeon nearly kicks herself after she hears herself say: "You're my hero."

And maybe it's the way Sooyeon looks at her, maybe it's because she's on _her_ couch, in her place, and regardless of whether or not dinner is a complete bust, Taeyeon wants to keep her here, right at her side -- she just doesn't stop herself.

She leans in, cupping the other woman's face and brushes her mouth over her forehead, then her eyelids, and her jaw. She stumbles a little when Sooyeon shifts and finds herself pulling her down, between her body and the crevice of the couch. Their legs tangle and Taeyeon feels Sooyeon's shirt to begin to rise against her leg.

"I just want to sleep with you," Sooyeon murmurs. Her mouth brushes against Taeyeon's throat and Taeyeon feels herself sigh, then relax and curl back against the other woman too. "If that's okay," Sooyeon adds. "We can make out tomorrow."

Taeyeon laughs and lets Sooyeon's head tuck into her side. Her fingers curl into her hair and she tugs a little, nodding against her head too.

"Sure," she says, and maybe, just maybe, this is what it feels like to fall a little in love.

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyeon does _not_ hear the front door open.

Instead, she is too busy trying to taste the coffee from Sooyeon's mouth. She is standing between the other woman's legs at the kitchen counter, laughing against her mouth as Sooyeon begins to drag her t-shirt abover her hips.

"We should really have breakfast," she coos, then sighs because somehow, _somehow_ Sooyeon's fingers work themselves between her legs.

Sooyeon bites at her lips, then drags her tongue over her own. Taeyeon half-moans, half laughs against her mouth.

"Eventually," Sooyeon agrees.

"At this rate though --" and Taeyeon has to stop, sort of shudder because Sooyeon flicks her finger over what seems to be the really thin, almost impossibly thin fabric of her underwear and she swears, _swears_ she feels it. Her voice catches again too. "I am never going to look at this table the same way," she breathes.

The smile against Taeyeon's mouth is deadly and Sooyeon stands into her, turning so that it's Taeyeon that is starting to lean Sooyeon into her kitchen table. Her very sturdy kitchen table.

"I'm just grabbing a banana!"

Sooyoung's voice rings somewhere behind her, mixed in with laughter and _that's my girl_ because, of course, roommate solidarity or whatever.

Taeyeon still has the presence of mind to raise a hand and flick her off.


End file.
